Buns of Steel!
by SushiBomb
Summary: If there was one thing that the Varia immediately noticed about their new illusionist, it was how laughably weak Fran was. Squalo is thus given the monumental task of whipping the boy into shape.CRACKATTACK!Rated for language,perversion, and Varia-ness.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I've wanted to write something about Fran for a while now, and I suddenly got this idea yesterday, and I just had to post it. This is gonna be a two-shot. That's it, I promise!

I just had to take a break from my other stories to write something purely comical, for myself. This is a bit of a stress reliever. Don't worry; I'm dutifully working on my other stories! I know I'm gonna start getting death threats if I don't post the next chapter of D.I.T.D. soon XD I jest, I jest, but I will have it up when I get my laptop back so I can type it!

Speaking of, I'm still waiting to get my laptop back! Hopefully, I'll have my baby back sometime between today and Wednesday.

I may or may not however, be a bit delayed, as this week, as well as next week are finals for me. So I may be out of touch for a couple of days. But I swear come the holiday, all of my stories will be updated! Even if it kills me lol

Anyway, please enjoy this little crack-attack. This is set when Fran first joins the Varia. I'm not sure how old Fran is exactly, but I kind of assume he's a year or two younger than Bel. Meh. *Shrug*

Disclaimer: Sushi*Bomb does not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn!

* * *

Buns of Steel!

* * *

As the elite assassination squad for the Vongola, the members of the Varia were expected to be in perfect shape at all times. Thus, the group of hitmen engaged in different kinds of collaborative training exercises and activities, on top of their own individual training regimens.

Squalo, for example, spent the better part of his days out in the courtyard where the Varia usually conducted their training, brushing up on his technique, lest he get rusty. And when he wasn't doing that, he was holed up in his room, watching and re-watching the cassettes of his past matches, looking for any little imperfection, even the tiniest flaw in his swordsmanship.

Lussuria, as a martial artist, also spent much of his time outside. The Muay Thai master was often seen in the courtyard with Squalo, sparring with his personnel, whom he had trained in the art of Muay Thai. If he wasn't sparring, he was in his room either meditating or doing breathing exercises.

Levi spent his time training on the hillside, away from the Varia headquarters. As a lightning user, it would be hazardous for him to work on his techniques near the base. He usually practiced his timing.

Xanxus, when he felt like it, could be found at the shooting range located in the lowest level of the castle. As a gun-slinger, the moody Varia commander was skilled with a variety of firearms, which included rifles, handguns, machine guns, and the like. In fact, he spent much of his time downstairs, and was never satisfied until he had shot the bulls-eye on every single target. It was a great way to relieve stress.

Belphegor, twisted as he was, preferred living targets. The prince could usually be spotted in the forest or on the roof of the castle, flinging his trademark knives at birds, cats and other small mammals, and sometimes people. Needless to say, the lower ranking members of the Varia tended to stay indoors where that crazy prince's knives wouldn't be able to hit them.

But unlike the other members of the Varia, Fran preferred to sit under the shade of the large trees that littered the grounds of the estate, and read. Or write. Or work on complicated puzzles. To the illusionist, physical training was irrelevant.

Which was rather unfortunate for him, because if there was one thing that the Varia immediately noticed about their new mist illusionist, it was how laughably weak Fran was.

At first, no one really cared too much. As long as you could fulfill your contractual obligations to the Varia, things like physical strength weren't terribly important. Besides, it was a known fact that illusionists were usually quite ineffectual physically. As an adult, Mammon, or Viper, as he had been known as then, had undoubtedly been physically the most unintimidating of the Arcobaleno, and usually found ways to weasel out of any kind of physical training. Obviously, that carried over when the mysterious bunch were transformed into infants.

Despite this, they knew that Mammon had had other ways of 'training'. After all, an illusionist's greatest asset was their imagination and intelligence and thus, they focused more on keeping their minds sharp than strengthening their bodies.

Mukuro was a bit different. The Vongola's mist guardian was better known for his brilliance in the illusionary arts, but when the need arose, he was a formidable opponent in physical combat.

And, as Rokudo Mukuro's apprentice, the mint –haired youth was most certainly gifted with the knowledge and natural talent to conjure frighteningly realistic illusions. He was more than qualified to replace a Mammon, even if they weren't happy about it.

When it came to physical strength and combat however, his pupil was… downright pathetic. And that was putting it mildly.

Fran was a scrawny little thing, who packed a punch not unlike that of a nine-year old girl. One hit, or even a forceful tap from one of the other Varia officers, and the boy simply fell over like an empty trash can. Not to mention he was something of a klutz, as Lussuria had noted embarrassingly after he had attempted to spar with the younger boy. Fran had made to kick him, just as the martial artist had taught him, and instead had not only managed to kick himself, but also tripped over a twig and fell face-first into the mud in a spectacular display of green hair and apathy.

They had all gotten a good laugh out of that.

But when, during one occasion when Fran had been forced by Belphegor to help him re-shelf some books in the library, the prince had all but dropped a stack of encyclopedias in the younger assassin's arms and Fran had literally toppled over from the weight of the books, the members of the Varia decided enough was enough.

The Encyclopedias hadn't even been that heavy for Christ's sake.

And so, after much discussion and arguing, which of course lead to the eventual drawing of lots, it was decided that Squalo would be the one best suited to whip the youngest member of their squad into top form. Fran was part of the Varia now, and no matter how good of an illusionist he was, there was simply no excuse for getting crushed by a stack of books.

Honestly, they knew that if anyone could do it, it would be Squalo. The second in command could be something of a drill sergeant and a slave driver at times, and they were positive that with enough verbal abuse, Fran would eventually become a real man. Like them.

* * *

Fran languidly made his way downstairs to the kitchen one morning. It was still a bit early, so there probably wasn't anyone awake yet.

Hopefully.

As he hopped off of the last step, he heard someone moving about in the kitchen. So much for a quiet breakfast.

The illusionist poked his head in. Naturally, Squalo was the first one up, as he usually was. Something to do with the swordsman rising with the sun or whatever.

Fran shrugged.

Suddenly aware of his presence, the silver-haired shark quickly turned around, jabbing a finger in his face.

"VOOOOOIIIII! There you are brat! I've been waiting for you to get your ass down here!" He shouted, looking quite enthusiastic for such an early hour.

Fran just stared back, silent.

"Me and the others have decided it's time we whipped your ass into shape dammit!" The rain-guardian continued when the younger man said nothing. Fran cocked his head to the side, still staring blankly. After a few moments of contemplation, the illusionist spoke.

"What do mean by that?" Squalo glared at the boy heatedly.

"VOOOIIII! Exactly what it sounds like! Kid, in terms of physical strength, you're fuckin' pathetic! Look at yourself!" Squalo hollered at the youth as he snatched one of the boy's delicate wrists and dangled it in his face for emphasis.

Fran glanced at it apathetically before turning back to Squalo's face. To the rain guardian's immeasurable vexation, the rookie just shrugged.

"I'm an illusionist, why does it matter to the idiot-commander how strong I am? I don't fight with my fists."

Squalo sighed.

"Look rookie, to be frank… you're a pushover." At that, Squalo lightly shoved the boy in the chest. Fran promptly fell to the ground with an offhanded 'ouch.' The Varia second in command slapped a frustrated hand over his face.

"And I meant that literally."

Fran slowly picked himself up off the floor, patting his butt.

"That hurt, stupid-commander." Squalo growled.

"Listen Goddammit! For the next week, I'm in charge of your training! We're gonna get you ripped! There ain't no room for pussies in the Varia! Understand?" He thundered before leaning in close to the boy's face.

"Are _you_ a pussy, Fran?" He asked challengingly. Fran stared/glared at him.

"Pussy as in a feline? Or pussy as in female genitalia?"

Squalo's ice blue eyes twinkled a bit at the mention of the latter. Fran sighed.

"Uhh…no…no, I'm not." He said after a few seconds. A large, shark-toothed grin erupted on Squalo's face. Fran gulped unconsciously.

"Good! Your training starts now!" The swordsman said determinedly before he turned and began rummaging around in the fridge. After a minute or two, Squalo emerged with a handful of eggs and a plate of raw beef.

"First things first, we gotta start feeding you more protein! That way you'll start building some muscle!" He declared as he set his odd ingredients next to the blender, and set to work cracking the eggs and dumping them in one by one, followed by the thick slab of bloody beef.

Fran's eyes widened.

_He's not going to…_

_**WHHHHHHHHHIIIIIIIIIIIIRRRRRR!**_

_He is._ Fran thought, suddenly feeling queasy as he watched the chunks of liquidated bovine spin around in the glass appliance.

After several minutes, Squalo turned off the blender and grabbed two glass cups from one off the cabinets. He detached the glass part of the blender from the machine and began slowly pouring the contents into the two glasses, oblivious to Fran's quickly paling face.

The illusionist tried to hold his vomit down as he watched the brownish-red liquid fill the glasses, the occasional chunk of…meat, plunking into the liquid.

Squalo handed him a glass.

"Here, drink this."

Fran shook his head vehemently.

"I'm not drinking that."

Squalo's eyes hardened.

"Vooooiiii! Why not!"

Fran looked almost disgusted.

"For one, idiot-commander, that's nasty. Two, I'm a vegetarian. I don't eat, or in this case drink, meat." He reasoned, still looking quite nauseous. Squalo was positively livid. Of course the kid was a fucking vegetarian.

"Drink it Goddammit! It's good for you!"

"No."

"Drink it!"

Fran turned his nose up at the offered beverage, looking uncharacteristically snooty.

"I said no. That's gross."

"Either you take this cup, or I'm gonna ram it down your fuckin' throat!"

"You can't blame me for not wanting to drink that. I think you and Xanxus-sama are probably the only ones who would." He said, as they both heard someone walking down the lacquered wooden stairway outside the main hall. A second or two later, Belphegor sauntered into the room, stretching his arms languorously over his golden head.

Squalo waved him down.

"VOOII Prince Brat! Would you drink this?" He shouted at the elite from across the kitchen. Belphegor lazily strode over, absently scratching his crotch.

The prince was very inelegant in the morning. Well, more so than usual.

"What is it?" The blonde asked, his voice still thick with sleep as he leaned over to sniff the odd looking-shake. He stuck his tongue out in disgust, now fully awake.

"Eww Squ-chan! That smells gross!" Fran poked the blonde in the ribs sharply.

"Would you drink it Bel-sempai?" Belphegor blanched, making a disgusted sound.

"Fuck no I wouldn't drink that!"

Fran turned back to his superior, looking a bit smug.

"I told you commander."

Squalo growled lowly in his throat.

"Shut the fuck up prince-bitch! It's a high protein shake! It's good for you!" He bellowed into the royal's face. Bel laughed out loud.

"Ushishishi~! So what? It still looks like watery poop."

"VOOOOOIIII! WELL IT AIN"T!" The moody swordsman thundered, before taking a sip of his meat shake. Fran slapped a hand over his mouth.

"I don't feel so good…" Fran said queasily, before dashing to the bathroom down the hall and emptying out his stomach contents into the toilet. Belphegor and Squalo watched him run with hints of amusement. When the newbie was out of sight, the blonde turned to his superior.

"Shishi~! What the hell's in there anyway?" Squalo took a long gulp of his own 'beverage' before answering.

"Seven eggs and a loin of raw beef. Wh- Voooiii! What the hell's the matter with your face?" The rain guardian asked the prince, who's trademark grin was absent for once.

"That's fucking gross. You're gonna get a tapeworm."Was Belphegor's response.

Squalo scoffed.

"Tapeworm my ass! This is a high-protein shake! A lot of body-builders drink this!"

It was the prince's turn to scoff at the long-haired swordsman. Belphegor chuckled while staring hard at the lone glass Fran had respectfully declined on the bar.

"You got nails in there too, Rambo? Ushishishi~!"

"VVOOOIIII! Shut the fuck up! You ain't man enough to drink this anyway!"

"Correction. The prince isn't werewolf enough to drink that." The prince giggled, stirring the concoction with a spoon. His face suddenly turned a rather sickly shade of green when he spooned up a chunk of something. He turned back to Squalo, who was happily drinking his livestock beverage.

"I think I'm gonna hurl…" And with that, the maniacal blonde ran after his 'uncute kohai' and joined him in regurgitating last night's dinner.

Squalo sneered.

"Tch…weaklings." He said as he emptied out his glass, and then drank Fran's. Needless to say, both Fran and Bel were bedridden for the rest of the day.

Squalo supposed they could just try again tomorrow.

The next morning, Fran rolled over in bed, only to find himself face to face with Squalo. The mist illusionist quickly sat up and scooted to the other side of the bed, stomach sinking. And here he had thought that after yesterday, silver-haired commander would leave him be.

Apparently, he was wrong.

"VOOOIIII! Get your ass outta bed, trash! We're training today!" Squalo shouted as he promptly wrenched the thin blue sheet off of Fran's skinny body. The boy shivered.

"Stupid-commander, it's cold. Give that back."

"Up. Now!"

Fran sighed as he slowly climbed off of his bed, halfheartedly grabbing a pair of sweats and a t-shirt out of his top drawer on his way to the bathroom.

_I hate my life._ He thought.

Twenty minutes later, the pair of hitmen could be found in the Varia's personal gym, also located in the basement of the headquarters. After a quick and relatively painless warm-up stretch, Squalo deemed it time to begin.

"Alright. Let's start off simple. Give me ten push-ups." The commander asked, pointing down to the mat.

"What are push-ups?" Fran asked him dispassionately as he casually wiggled his pinky finger in his ear and flicked something off.

"Vooooiiii….You've got to be fucking joking."

Squalo facepalmed. He had a feeling he'd be doing that a lot this week.

Fran shrugged. The swordsman sighed as he got down on the mat.

"Watch." Squalo did one standard pushup. The commander looked up at Fran, signaling him to join him down on the mat.

Which he did, with great reluctance.

After assuming the same position he had seen Squalo take, the illusionist glanced up at his new personal trainer. Squalo swiftly nodded, indicating that he could begin.

Fran slowly lowered himself to the mat, skinny arms buckling. He promptly fell to the mat, exhausted.

"What. Was. That?" Squalo grit out. The kid couldn't even do one whole push-up? Fran sat up, looking like he had just moved a mountain.

"Phew! That was a good work out, commander. Can I go now?" Squalo punched the boy over the head.

"No you can't go! We haven't even started yet! You have nine and a half left to go! Move it trash!" He screamed.

Fran looked ready to cry.

As he watched the boy pitifully lower himself back down, and began the grueling process of completing the remaining set, Squalo rolled his eyes, groaning.

This was gonna be harder than he thought.

* * *

Read n' Review please! Next chapter'll be up soon.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Ooookay, so I lied. This is now a three-shot. Hey homies, welcome to chapter 2 of Buns of Steel!

Okay so first off, I have a question. Is anyone else having issues with their story/ profile traffic pages? Because according to mine, I haven't had one single hit or visitor to any of my fics or my profile for two days. Which is obviously incorrect, since I've been getting reviews, and I can see them. Weird…Is it just me? Or is it like a general problem that FFN needs to hurry up and fix, cuz it's kind of annoying?

Okay, bitching aside, I hope you all enjoy this chapter. I had obscene amounts of fun writing it lol

Thanks to everyone whose faved/alerted/ reviewed so far!

Warnings: Squalo's mouth, Fran's shamelessness, and cross-dressing princes. The usual.

Disclaimer: Sushi*Bomb does not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn. If she did, she wouldn't have to post lame fanfiction on retarded sites like FFN. =)

* * *

"Dear Lord above, I promise to never touch my sword again. I'll never kill anyone as long as I live, and I'll give back to the community or whatever. Just please; let this damn kid lift this weight without falling over. Amen." Squalo muttered a prayer to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose tightly.

It was safe to say that Superbia Squalo was not a religious man by any means. But if faith was what it took to get Fran to lift this goddamn weight, then the swordsman swore he would attend Mass every single Sunday without fail for the rest of his life. Christ, he'll even sing!

He sat back and watched with no small amount of frustration as Fran attempted, for the seven time, to lift a 12lb. dumbell off of the ground, and failed. Squalo supposed he should at least give the kid an 'A' for effort, since he appeared to be actually trying to lift it.

The young illusionist was panting heavily and his face was flushed, as his body was not used to this sudden onslaught of exhertion. He looked unbelievably pathetic with his feet firmly anchored to the ground and both of his delicate hands clutching the free-weight tightly, teeth clenched, trying with all his might to get it to budge.

So far, they had spent the better part of yesterday working on basic exercises. And predictably, Fran had done nothing short of atrocious in each. After taking literally over an hour to do ten single pushups, since he had to rest for like ten minutes after each one, he totaled about three and a half situps. Squalo would have made him finish, but thought better of it when the illusionist gave him an acidic glare that promised a life-time filled with grisly nightmares and visions.

Naturally, the swordsman suggested they try something different today. Which lead to the current situation.

Squalo sighed. He was sure his forehead was turning red from all the times he'd slapped it so far this morning. He stalked over to the boy and smacked his hands off of the weight aggravatedly.

"Alright, alright, don't pop a blood vessel. I'll find you a lighter weight, Christ." The Varia commander snapped at the illusionist, who just nodded and sat back, massaging his skinny arms.

"Try these." Squalo said, handing him a set of 5lb. weights. Fran hesistantly took the weights, wholly expecting his arms to be dragged down by the weight, but surprisingly, they weren't that heavy.

"Hmm…these are good." Fran said listlessly, testing the small weights out experimentally. Squalo nearly sighed in relief.

"We'll start here, and you'll work your way up to the 12lb set. Now, give me ten bicep curls. Go!" He shouted.

Fran looked clueless.

The swordsman sighed in frustration, before performing the requested exercise once to demonstrate. Fran nodded in understanding and assumed the same stance.

"One. Two. Three. Four…" Squalo counted as the boy slowly but surely curled his arms, before releasing them back down, exhaling just like his superior had just shown him. He made a sound of triumph when he reached ten.

Squalo was mildly shocked to see he actually **made it** to ten without stopping.

"Alright. Now do ten more." Fran eyes widened comically.

"I have to do more?" He asked, pouting. Squalo crossed his arms, nodding profusely.

"VOOIIII! Of course you have to do more! You're not gonna accomplish anything by doing just one set! I want five sets of ten, dammit. Now MOVE!" He barked at the mint-haired youth, who groaned as he begrudgingly began the second set.

By the middle of the third set, the illusionist looked ready to collapse.

"I think I'm gonna die." He whined. Squalo just muttered something along the lines of 'pussy' as he shook his head and walked away.

For someone who was supposedly 'emotionless,' Fran sure complained like an old lady.

After spending a while on his arms, the rain guardian took the younger assassin around the gym, putting him on this machine, or that machine, and made him do five painful repetitions on each. By the time dusk rolled around, Fran was literally dragging himself back to his room, looking a lot like a zombie.

He was more than certain he'd really be feeling this in the morning.

* * *

Fran awoke to a pillow smacking him in the face.

"Would you wake the fuck up already? It's time to train!" Fran whimpered. His whole body was sore from the horrid abuse Squalo put him through yesterday, and the crazy man wanted to do it again today too?

"Go away long-haired commander, I don't want to do anything." He said simply, before rolling away from the agitated swordsman and promptly falling back asleep.

Squalo wasn't having it.

The silverette pulled out a megaphone from behind his back, smirking toothily. He placed the device right next to Fran's ear, before clearing his throat.

"VOOOOIII!" The man's already loud voice reverberated throughout the mansion.

Fran shrieked rather girlishly as he hurriedly scrambled off of his bed in a heap of sheets and limbs. Squalo, of course, wasn't finished. The Varia's second in command followed the now in pain, irritated, and slightly deaf illusionist all the way to his bathroom, shouting crude death threats and obscenities into the megaphone, even as Fran slammed the bathroom door in his face.

Fran wondered vaguely how calling his mother a whore was supposed to motivate him in someway. He decided that Squalo's logic was quite unreasonable. He'd be sure to mention it later.

If he managed to survive today's 'training,' that is.

Half an hour later, the two stood in front of the Varia mansion. More specifically, they stood on a dirt trail directly outside of the gated driveway. Fran was massaging his ear lightly while doing the morning stretches Squalo had shown him before.

"Alright kid, first we're gonna go jogging for a bit to warm you up." Fran stared at him blankly, absently scratching his stomach under his plain white t-shirt.

"You mean like running?" He asked.

Squalo nodded, trying to resist the urge to facepalm again.

"Yeah, I mean running. Ever done it before?" Fran just stared at him with half-lidded eyes. Suddenly, the green-haired youth made an about face and casually started back in the direction of the mansion. Squalo felt a little nerve pop up on his temple.

"VOOOIII! Where the fuck do you think you're going?" He barked. Fran turned back to him nonchalantly.

"I don't run, idiot-commander." The illusionist said in that monotone voice of his as he pushed open the gate. Squalo growled.

"You do now!" He snapped, storming after the younger man and grabbing him by the collar. He heard an almost silent 'damn,' as he dragged him back to their starting point.

"Alright. This'll be simple. We'll just jog once around the estate. You'll work your wa- VOOOIIIII! Pay attention!" He roared at the illusionist, who was blatantly ignoring him and reading 'Wuthering Heights' while sitting back on his haunches with his free arm wrapped around his legs.

Squalo bent down and slapped the book out of his hand, gritting his teeth. Fran made a startled noise as the book fell to the dirt path.

"Jogging. NOW." The silver-haired man shouted.

Fran sighed, before standing up and getting into position.

"Fine."

And with that, the two set off down the trail. Or at least, that _was_ the plan. After a grand total of sixteen feet, Fran collapsed face-first onto the dirt path. Squalo turned back at the 'thud,' resisting the urge to punch something in aggravation.

"What happened?" He snapped, stamping back over to the young illusionist. Fran looked up from the ground, bits of dirt falling off of his pale face.

"I can't run anymore. You'll have to go on without me." He said apathetically as he slowly stood up and dusted himself off. Squalo was certain that he was going to explode.

"You couldn't even run twenty motherfuckin' feet?"

Fran looked behind him at the post where they started.

"That's all it was? I could've sworn it was more than that. Hmm…oh well. Thanks for the jog, long-haired commander. I think I'm ready to tackle the day now after that energiz-"

Squalo punched him in the head sharply.

"Vooooiii! I ain't done with you yet, dammit! Move it, scum, to the gym!MOVE MOVE MOVE!"

And with that, the silverette marched back to the estate, a zestless Fran in tow.

* * *

"Today, we're gonna work on your combat skills. It's to your benefit to know how to fight hand-to-hand, so I'm gonna show you basic punches and kicks and shit. Got it?" Squalo asked the younger man. He blanched when he looked down to see that the mint-haired youth was again ignoring him in favor of reading.

"VOOOOOIIIII! Pay attention Goddammit!" The Varia's second in command shouted as he angrily snatched the book, 'Lord of the Flies' to be specific, out of the younger assassin's hands and chucked it across the room. Fran pouted up at him.

"Why'd you do that, book-nazi commander? That's a good book." Squalo glared at him, ignoring the 'nazi' part.

"Anyway, first things first, I wanna see how strong your punches are." Fran gave him a stupid look.

"Umm…are you for real?" Squalo nodded.

"You're damn right I'm for real. Now, I want you to punch me in the face as hard as you can."

Fran's eyebrows rose up past light green bangs.

"… are you sure about this?" Fran asked, looking a bit uncertain. Squalo nodded again, smirking slightly.

"Of course I'm sure! Now come on! Put'em up and hit me!" He barked, pointing at his cheek. Fran sighed and brought his fists up to match Squalo's. He took a deep breath.

"Uhh…Alright. Here I go. Hyaa!" He exclaimed before closing his eyes and swinging his dainty fist at the older man, hitting him on the cheek as instructed.

Squalo looked at him disbelievingly.

"Are you fucking with me? What the hell was that love-tap?" He screamed at the younger man, who was rubbing his fist in pain.

"Ow… commander, is your face made of titanium or something?" The illusion said, shaking out his pained hand. Squalo ignored him, once again putting up his gloved fists in a punching stance and motioned for Fran to do the same.

"Try again runt, and this time, put some damn effort into it!"

Fran suddenly clutched his stomach, grimacing slightly. He turned around and started walking out of the gym.

"VVVRROOOOOIIIIIIII!Where in the hell do you think you're going now?" He roared after the illusionist. Fran looked at him over his shoulder.

"I have to take a shit." The mint- haired youth said bluntly.

"I didn't need to know that…" Squalo said with a scowl. Fran shrugged before continuing out the door.

"Well you asked, long-haired commander."

"Yeah right! Who the hell do you think I am? I know you're just gonna run away! Get back here or I'll stab you!"

Fran glared at him, still clutching his stomach.

"But I really have to go."

"NO. Hold it 'til later."'

"Commander…"

"I SAID NO! NOW GET OVER HERE!"

Fran walked back over, sulking.

"Fine. But don't get mad when I start farting, 'cause I'm not gonna hold it in. And I ate-"

Squalo growled low in his throat.

"Fine go!"

"Okay. Be right back."

Squalo sighed, absently combing a gloved hand through his lengthy tresses.

"Alright, alright, fine. Just make it quick. And don't you dare skip out on me!" He shouted after the retreating assassin.

"Whatever." The younger man said before dissappearing around the corner.

"Tch…that kid has no fuckin' shame." Squalo grumbled while he plopped down on the carpeted ground and waited.

And waited.

…And waited.

…And waited.

After nearly thirty minutes, the rain guardian growled as he swiftly stood up and exited the gym.

_I knew the little shit was gonna run out on me! _He thought angrily to himself as he ascended the stairway back into the main floor of the mansion to begin his Franhunt.

* * *

_If I were a nerdy little runt, where would I hide?_ Squalo thought to himself as he wandered around the Varia base. So far, he had checked the library, the kitchen, Fran's private quarters, the bathrooms obviously, and a few other places the little froggy was usually found.

And so far, there was no sign of him.

_Damn… and here I thought the prince brat was good at hide and seek._ Squalo thought before suddenly realizing something. He smirked widely.

_Voooiiii! And you thought I wouldn't figure out your hiding place! I got you now!_ He shouted in his mind, immediately marching up the stairs to the eastern wing of the mansion, were a certain blonde's room was located.

Upon reaching the ornate wooden door, Squalo was suddenly having second thoughts. The extremely loud music coming from inside was going to give him a headache. Not to mention every time he had reason to enter the prince's room, he left feeling distinctly ill and/or scarred for life.

Which was why Fran was probably hiding in there.

Squalo nodded determinedly, strengthening his resolve, and turned the handle. He poked his head in through the small crack in the door, and blanched. Belphegor was singing along with the music…while spinning upside down on a stripper pole.

…Yeeeah…he _definitely_ should have knocked.

"Hey Squ-squ! What's up?" The prince shouted as he came to a stop, one leg still skillfully wrapped around the gold pole, and the other extended out in front of him.

"What the hell are you doing? Are you training to be a stripper or something?"

The blonde prince hopped down and giddily ran over. Squalo's eyes were as wide as saucers as he took in the sight of the prince, trademark Cheshire cat smile plastered to his boyish face, running over in a tight black tank top, a leotard, leg warmers, and…high heels.

"Bel…what the fuck…" He said, staring at the younger assassin in shock, and slight disgust as Belphegor skidded to a stop in front of him. Belphegor's grin widened exponentially. Squalo took an unconscious step back.

"I'm learning how to pole dance Squalo! I- Hey! Where are you going? Don't you wanna watch the prince dance?" The blonde shouted as he ran after his superior, who promptly pulled a Fran and made a quick about face and walked briskly, if not a bit frightfully, out of the room.

He quickened his pace when he heard the sharp 'click click click's of Belphegor's black pumps on the tiled hallway floor.

"Squ! Wait up!" The blonde said as he caught up to the older man. Squalo gave him a dirty look.

"Voooooiiiii…..kid, you're some kind of fucked up, you know that?" The rain guardian said, pointedly staring at the prince's extremely tight outfit. Belphegor shrugged.

"I wanted to try something different. I heard pole-dancing's a really amazing workout for your whole body, so I said 'what the hell' and bought the set." Squalo gave him a deadpanned look.

"Is that right?"

The blonde nodded zealously.

"Yeah, feel my ass! It's so firm!" The prince exclaimed a little too loudly for the swordsman's liking as he ran in front of the older hitman and stuck his butt out, rubbing it approvingly.

Squalo growled and kick him before continuing on his merry way. The blonde picked himself up off the floor quickly, pouting as he once again fell into step beside the taller man.

"Why'd you kick me, asshole?" He seethed, rubbing his now sore posterior. Squalo gave him a sideways glare.

"Because you're a fag. That's why. Besides, you know that it's meant for women, don't you?" Bel smirked.

"Ushishishi~! The prince looks better on that pole than any woman! You don't think so commander Squ-chan?"

At that Squalo sighed in ill-disguised disappointment, shaking his head and faced straight ahead, intent on continuing his original mission.

Which reminded him…

"Have you seen Fran?" Belphegor put a pensive finger to his lips.

"Hmmm…nope. Can't say that I have. By the way, how's the froggy's manliness-training going?"

Squalo glared at the prince.

"Obviously not good, since I'm looking for the little nerd. He ran away!"

"Ushishishi~! The prince will help you find him! I know his secret hiding spot!"

Squal looked a bit skeptical.

"You do?"

Belphegor nodded, his grin threatening to split his face.

"I'll take you to him…after you feel my butt."

Squalo rounded on him, face turning pink.

"VRRROOOOOIIII! Why the hell do you want me to feel your ass so bad! Fucking fag!"

Belphegor giggled, patting his butt in that weird manner again.

"Because it's amazing. That's why! Now feel it." He said.

"But-"

"FEEL IT. Or I won't show you were froggy is!"

Squalo groaned, but relented as he hesitantly walked closer to the prince and poked one of the pert globes and quickly recoiled.

"Well?" The prince asked expectantly.

Squalo scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, very nice. Now find that little shit for me. He's getting an extra two hours on the treadmill for this bullshit!"

* * *

"He's out here?" Squalo asked incredulously. Belphegor nodded.

"He sure is! Ushishi~!"

The two hitmen walked out into the forest outside of the Varia base, Squalo making sure to stand several feet away from Belphegor, who was **still** wearing those freaking pumps.

_Is there anyone on this squad with any shame?_ The swordsman thought as he watched his blonde comrade strut down the dirt path expertly in the at least four and half inch stiletto heels. The two soon stopped in front if one particular willow and the prince pointed into the thick branches.

"See! There he is!" He exclaimed triumphantly.

Squalo followed Bel's finger, squinting a bit. Sure enough, as they walked closer to the trunk and looked up, a familiar leg was seen dangling from one of the lower hanging branches. Fran was perched snuggly against the trunk, drinking a Caprisun and reading. It appeared he hadn't even noticed their arrival, as he was completely engrossed in the graphic novel his nose was buried in.

Squalo threw a rock at him.

"VOOOOOOOIIII! Found you, ya little pussy hair! Get your ass down right now!"

"I don't feel like it." They heard the voice of the illusionist call down. Squalo felt his blood pressure rising steadily.

"I thought you said you had to go to the bathroom! You manipulative piece of cum crust! I'll kill you for tricking me!" The swordsman shouted up into the branches. Fran poked his head around the trunk of the tree to look down at them, a ghost of a smirk on his normally expressionless face.

"I didn't trick you. I really did have to go to the bathroom," He started before yawning slightly, and them continued,

"But you know, I always get so tired afterward…" He said, leaning back against the tree idly.

"Tch…what about your training?"

"I am training. With my mind." Fran said sardonically, holding up his book.

"VOOOIII!" The swordsman roared. But his rage went unnoticed, as Fran had already turned his emerald gaze to Belphegor.

"Bel-sempaaaaaii…why are you wearing high heels and a leotard? Have you finally made your dreams of becoming a woman a reality?"

"Ushishishi~! Does froggy wanna die?" The prince said maliciously, his trademark smile looking noticeably strained.

"**This** little froggy isn't going to let himself get killed by a cross-dressing lunatic who thinks he's a prince." Fran said, pointing to himself, before he turned his attention back to his manga.

Belphegor snarled lightly.

"The prince doesn't always dress like this!"

"That is such a relief." Fran quipped sarcastically without looking up from his book.

"I was exercising!"

"What type of exercise could possibly require you to walk around in a leotard and women's shoes?"

"…pole-dancing…" Fran actually looked up from his book to stare at the prince.

A beat passed.

Belphegor fidgeted a bit, suddenly feeling very awkward under the scrutiny of his comrades's stares/glares.

"…What? It's a good workout…" He said, fiddling with his tiara.

Fran and Squalo's deadpanned stares were making him reeeeally uncomfortable. After a few seconds, Fran turned back to his book, shaking his head slightly.

"What a chode…" He said as he casually flipped the page.

Belphegor looked incensed. A knife suddenly materialized in his hand. That same knife was immediately thrown into the tree and into Fran's book. The illusionist pouted.

"Fallen-prince sempai…this was Deathnote Volume 12, I was just about to get to the end…" He whined. Belphegor smirked.

"That's what you get for calling me a chode. Uncute kohai. Shishi~!" Fran smirked, looking uncharacteristically devious.

"The giant fire-breathing banana-donkey behind you thinks you look like a chode too. I was just stating the facts." Fran said, with a nearly imperceptible smile.

"What the hell are you talking about reta- AAAAAAAAHHHHHH!" Was all that came out of the blonde prince's mouth before he suddenly started running down the path, an unseen assailant apparently hot on his heels. No pun intended.

Squalo watched him go, smirking to himself. He reclined his head back to speak to his unwillingly student in the tree.

"Voooiii, you coming down or what?" He shouted.

"Nope."

"Get down here, or I'll make you."

"Commander, you can't make me do anything. Sorry to disappoint you, but you have no authority over my personal exercise habits. Besides, like I said before, I am training." Fran said, yanking the odd-looking knife out of his book and letting it fall to the ground below.

Squalo crossed his arms over his chest. His ice blue eyes were locked with Fran's cool green ones. He sighed after a minute, realizing that there was no way he was going to get Fran out of that tree, lest he end up like Bel, who was still running around screaming like the psychopath he was.

"Tch…whatever." The swordsman said, and started back to the mansion. Fran's lips curled slightly, relishing his little victory.

Squalo kicked a random grunt as he stormed into his bedroom. Fran thought he could get out of Superbia Squalo's training did he? Well he was clearly mistaken. But as much as he hated it, the swordsman knew he would need some assistance.

Squalo had to make a phone call.

There was only one person he knew who could help him in this little endeavor of his.

* * *

YAY. I finally finished this god-forsaken chapter!

So what did you think? Read 'n' Review please! Chapter 3 will be out soon =)


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